


Not So Easily Broken

by ceallaig



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Family Feels, Gen, Illness, Possible kleenex alert, Some angst, brotherly bond, dragons come in all forms, good outcome, warriors don't have to be big and strong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-04-10
Packaged: 2018-01-18 22:34:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1445302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceallaig/pseuds/ceallaig
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a life-threatening illness strikes the most vulnerable of the Durin clan, the strength of the family is tested, and the bond between brothers is forged forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not So Easily Broken

“No, he’s not.”

“Fili…”

“No, he’s not.” The blue eyes looking up into Dis’s were blazing, the baby-soft jawline set and determined. Fili turned away from his mother. “I won’t let him.”

Dis closed her eyes and shook her head. The sickness that had been going around had seemed to spare her household…until Kili had woken up a few days ago feverish and complaining of pain in his abdomen. Now he alternated between chills and sweating, drifting in and out of sleep. Already delicate (by Dwarven standards), her younger son seemed to be wasting away before her eyes. Oin had done his best, but finally admitted that the lad would have to fight it on his own. The grim expression on his face did not give her cause for hope. More than one family had lost a loved one, and the sickness was the least merciful on the very old…and the very young.

Dis had tried to prepare her elder son for the worst, but Fili was having none of it. He sat at his brother’s side hour after hour. He bathed Kili’s face with a cold cloth when he was burning, covered him with blankets and furs when he shivered, held his hand and fought back his own tears when his little brother whimpered in pain. Ten years old, and his mother could see his father’s compassion and his uncle’s iron will in every inch of him. 

She ladled out a portion of stew for Fili—he would not come to the table to eat, so she brought it to him at the bedside. Kili was awake, and Fili was talking now in a low murmur that Dis had to lean in to hear. “The prince looked up at the dragon. The beast’s eyes glowed in the darkness, and the prince could feel the heat of the gaze on him. Dror lifted his sword and shield, shining like the sun, and told the beast, ‘I am of Durin’s line, and no one takes what is mine away from me.’”

Fili paused and spooned up some broth from his bowl. Kili asked, in a weak cracked voice, “What happened next?” Brown eyes were fixed on blue, and he seemed more focused than his mother had seen him for quite a while.

Fili smiled and held the spoon up to the younger child’s mouth. “If you want to know that, you have to eat a bit. Just a little, you can do it.” Kili opened his mouth obediently and let his brother dribble the broth in, swallowing with a wince each time, but still swallowing. Three spoonfuls, four, then a sip of water. “Tell me,” Kili finally whispered.

Fili took a bite of the stew, chewed and swallowed, then continued with the tale. Dis tiptoed out of the room, pride in one son warring with worry for the other. When she discovered she was pregnant with Kili, she had sat down with Fili and told him stories of her two brothers, and how Thorin as the eldest always looked after Frerin and herself. It was a great responsibility, she said, and a great honor. And after Khedrin had died, she reminded Fili that it was up to him now to teach Kili all the things a young Dwarf needed to know.

Fili had taken her words to heart, and there was never feuding between them, as there often was between other siblings. He was brother, teacher, protector and friend, ready to pick Kili up when he fell, ready to defend him when others were unkind or downright cruel. But this…this was a faceless enemy that even someone as wise as Oin was unsure how to defeat. How could a lad like Fili hope to conquer it?

She sighed. She had lost so many already, and now she might lose her baby. Little Kili, always smiling, always happy--Mahal, it wasn’t right or fair to give them such a treasure and take it away so soon! 

She was finishing up in the kitchen when she heard the sound of the front door opening, signaling the return of her brother. She readied his supper while he washed his face and hands. “How are the roads?” she asked as he sat at the table.

“Passable, but still mired in spots. Thought I’d snap an axle at one point, but we got through all right. And got a bonus from the customer for delivering in this weather.”

“Good; you deserved it.” Dis set a bowl of stew, bread and a mug of ale in front of him, but he didn’t start eating right away. His gaze went to the door of the lads’ sleeping room.

“How is he?”

“He ate a bit today; Fili wouldn’t tell him any more of the story unless he did,” Dis answered, smiling in spite of herself. 

Thorin grunted in agreement. “Stubborn as his mother, that one. What sort of tale was this one?” He picked up his spoon and dug into the savory stew.

“One about a prince and a dragon. I think he’s been ending one story and starting with another immediately to keep Kili interested; he always seems to be in the middle of a tale when I go in.” 

“He needs to take care he doesn’t wear himself out. I’ll talk to him after supper. Has Oin been in to see to Kili?”

Dis nodded. “He only says we must wait and see.” She sat next to Thorin, misery surrounding her like a cloak. “There is less and less of him every day, brother.” The great blue eyes shone with barely-held tears.

Thorin put down his spoon and took his sister’s hands. “As long as there is anything left of him, he will fight. He is a Durin, and he is your son. That line is not so easily broken.” A reluctant smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “And I think death will have a young lion to contend with if it comes calling. I wouldn’t wish to wager on its chances of success.”

Dis took a deep breath and nodded, rising to fix her own supper. “Finish eating, then go in to see them. Fili was asking when you’d be home.”

Fili looked up when his uncle entered the room, and Thorin could see the lad was having trouble keeping his eyes open. “Fili, your brother is asleep now; it’s time for you to find your bed, too.”

“I can’t leave, he needs someone here. He’ll get lost if someone’s not here. Nobody was with Da, and he got lost.” Thorin’s heart tore at the desperation in his sister-son’s voice. 

“I will stay with him, if you will allow me. You must get some rest or you’ll be ill yourself. And then who will finish the story for him?” Thorin smiled softly at the surprise on the small face; clearly this had not occurred to him. “Go,” Thorin urged, helping Fili to his feet.

“Do you promise you’ll wake me if…anything happens?” 

“I promise, lad.” Fili reached down to squeeze Kili’s hand one last time, then turned and slumped toward his own bed on the other side of the room. Thorin fed some kindling into the fire, tucked a tiny hand back under the blankets, and work-rough hands were infinitely gentle as they felt Kili’s face, taking care not to wake him. Still hot, but perhaps a bit less so than earlier. Or was it merely a hope? 

He lowered himself into the chair. Kili stirred slightly, whimpering in his sleep, and Thorin began crooning a cradle song. Deep and soothing, it reached inside the sick child, surrounding him, cradling him, and he quieted. Thorin sang softly for a few more moments, casting a quick glance over at his other nephew. The golden head was still, the small body curled in on itself, breathing deep and even. Thorin hoped that the dreams, if there were any, would be pleasant ones. In his mind he formed a silent prayer to a Maker that he was no longer certain even listened—should one nephew be taken from them, that the other would have the strength to carry on without his shadow.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d sat there, unfocused gaze fixed on the fire, when he heard Dis come in. “You need your rest, too; you have work in the morning,” she said, just loudly enough for him to hear.

“I can sleep in the chair if need be—it won’t be the first time. I told Fili I wouldn’t leave his brother alone.”

Wondering how in the name of Aulë she’d been saddled with such a collection of granite-spined males in her life, Dis shook her head and left the room. When she returned, she had Thorin’s pipe, pipeweed pouch, and a blanket in her arms. “If you’re going to be stubborn, you should at least be comfortable,” she said, dropping the items into his lap. Her terse words were softened by the kiss she pressed on the top of her brother’s head. “Watch him well, and wake me to take over if you need me.”

Thorin nodded his thanks. He filled his pipe, reaching with the tongs to pluck an ember from the fireplace to light it, and spread the midnight blue blanket over his legs. It and three others had been given to him in trade for smithing work done, and were close-woven and warm. They were a small luxury after years of rough blankets that were little better than horse coverings, and Dis guarded them jealously.

He smoked in silence, eyes closed, letting his mind go as blank as it ever would. When the bowl was finished, he put the pipe down on the floor, pulled the blanket up further, and closed his eyes. He was a warrior to the core, and sleep was usually a light visitor, easily driven away at need. But, Mahal, it had been a long day…

He woke with a start to the sound of a sharp gasp just as dawn was beginning to break. He looked over to find Kili nearly doubled in on himself in the bed, whimpering quietly. Before he could even reach out to the lad, Fili pushed past him, climbing on the bed with his brother. “Kili!” Fili said in an urgent whisper, gripping the thin shoulders. “Look at me, _nadadith_!” 

Dazed brown eyes struggled open. “Dragon,” the little Dwarf choked out. “Have a…dragon…inside me…”

“I know,” his brother said, and Thorin saw him brush away a tear that had escaped before he could will it back. Heart aching, he reached for Fili’s shoulder but was ignored. Fili’s whole being was focused on his brother. “You need to be strong and fight it, like Dror did. Remember Dror? He stood up to that dragon, and he told it that it wasn’t going to take what was his. You don’t let it take what’s yours, either, do you hear me?” A nod and an almost-smile, then another spasm and struggling to breathe for a moment. “I’m right here, I’ll help you, but you have to fight it.”

Dis had appeared in the sleeping room door by this time, and a wordless communication between brother and sister had Thorin letting go of his nephew and dashing out into the watery morning light in search of Oin and whatever help he could provide. Dis moved to her son’s bed, biting back a cry at the heat that radiated off Kili. How could he survive the inferno that blazed inside him? And if he did, would there be anything left of the Kili they knew? She schooled her features to neutrality and listened to her elder son’s words.

“Do you remember what Dror did, Kee?” Fili asked, gripping the bone-thin hand in both of his. “Do you remember? He told that dragon he had no right to be there, and he would see the worm dead at his feet before he allowed it to take a single bit of that treasure. And the dragon laughed, and roared, and spit flame at him, but Dror didn’t move. The treasure was his, and there was no one, Dwarf or beast, that could make him give it up. You can’t let the dragon inside you take your treasure, either. You’re a son of Durin, too, just like him, and just as strong and brave as he was. I believe in you. So does Mother, and so does Uncle. We’re all with you. Raise your sword, raise your shield, and fight it!”

“That’s right, _ghivasha_ ,” Dis said, swallowing down the lump in her throat, steel entering her voice. “You’re as brave as any Durin that’s ever been born, and no slug can defeat you. You are not alone. Fight like Thror and Thrain, and Thorin and Frerin, and your father. They’re with you, too. You have an army behind you. Can you see them?”

“Y-yes,” the child whispered. “So big…strong…”

“They are, all of them, and so are you,” Fili said, trading glances with his mother. “Swords, axes, armor—that dragon won’t know what hit him. And you’re in front of them all. Your armor is brighter than anyone else’s, brighter than Dror’s was. It hurts the dragon’s eyes to even look at you. Can you see it turn away from you? Like a star exploding in front of its eyes, your sword glowing like it just came out of Uncle’s forge. And you shout a war cry…” Fili’s voice faltered; he looked at his mother, blue eyes pleading for help. He was too young to know of such things except in stories, and the Khuzdul words were seldom written in them.

“ _Du Bekâr!_ ” Dis said, the ancient language guttural and wild on her tongue, the words conjuring up a long-ago battle. She’d only heard a second-hand account of it when the survivors straggled home, but her brother’s charge had already become legend. “It means ‘to arms!’ Call them to follow you, Kili, like Thorin did. Say it-- _Du Bekâr!_ ”

“ _D-Du Bekâr!_ ” The tiny voice was hardly more than a breath, the brown eyes still closed in pain. Then Kili took a deeper breath, and his eyes opened and locked with his brother’s blue ones. Stronger this time: “ _Du Bekâr!_ ”

“That’s it, Kee—call them! They’re all with you, we’re with you. Fight that dragon, don’t let it win. Don’t let it take what’s yours.” Fili’s voice broke then steadied. “Say it again, as loud as you can. _Du Bekâr!_ ”

“ _Du Bekâr! Du Bekâr! Du Bekâr!_ ” The last was a full-throated shout, and drained everything the little Dwarf had in him. He fell back on the bed, pale and still, sweat plastering his hair to his forehead. His hand went limp in his brother’s just as Oin came in, trailed by Thorin. Fili, eyes wide, was pulled gently to one side by his uncle. Taking comfort in the strong hands on his shoulders, he watched as the healer bent over Kili, listening and touching, looking into eyes and mouth, feeling the pulse. Fili’s heart thudded in his chest, but he made himself stand tall and silent until Oin was done with his examination. 

Finally the older Dwarf straightened, and a small smile quirked his lips. “The fever is broken—it will take a bit of time, but he will be fine.” Fili heard the held breath being released from his uncle, saw the tears in his mother’s eyes and the brightness of her smile. “Let him sleep as long as he will. I’ll give you some tea for him. He won’t like it, but make him drink it twice a day, and any other liquid you can get into him. Broth for a day or two, and keep him in bed for a few days. He won’t like that, either.” He looked around at the rest of the family. “And it’s high time you all got some rest, too.”

“We will, Oin. Thank you,” Dis answered. “Let me fix you some breakfast before you leave.” She ushered the healer out to the kitchen, and Fili moved forward to sit once again on the edge of Kili’s bed. He shivered a little in the chill morning air, and Thorin picked up the blue blanket, settling it around his nephew’s shoulders. Quietly he stirred the embers of the fire and added some wood, coaxing it back into a small blaze. 

He looked back at Fili, who was watching the steady rise and fall of his brother’s breathing. The young face was tired but there was the light of pride in it, the pride Thorin had seen before in a comrade’s face after a hard-earned victory. He’d heard the words Kili had shouted at they’d come in. _Du Bekâr!_ A phrase from a lifetime ago, it seemed. Once again a warrior had uttered it, with another one staunch at his side--as he had always been, and would always be, to the end of days.

 

 _Nadadith_ – little brother  
_Ghivasha_ – treasure  
_Du Bekâr!_ – to arms!


End file.
